Then Michael shut up and they drove. Nick kept his eyes on the windshield.

That just gave him time to think.

After a minute, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and shot off a text to Quinn.

wtf. Why did you tell Tyler?

He didn’t expect a response, so he was shocked to get one almost immediately.

Wtf. Why did you ATTACK Tyler? Are you crazy???!!!

She thought he’d attacked Tyler? Was she crazy?

Nick wanted to punch something. Hell, it worked for Gabriel. And Tyler, clearly.

It made him think of how he’d treated Adam last night.

Or of Adam’s words: Do you ever think that this Tyler guy thinks maybe you are bad for Quinn?

What had Tyler just said? He started this.

Had Nick started this? He didn’t think he had. He’d choked Tyler in his driveway, but that was after Tyler swung a fist.

Right? He couldn’t remember. Maybe not, but what had Tyler done to him over the last five years? What was he doing to Quinn?

Nick’s thoughts kept veering back to Adam. To Matt, the guy who’d used Adam like a punching bag. How hard had Nick hit him? He couldn’t remember.

It felt like something he should remember.

When you wake up hating yourself, I don’t want you taking it out on me.

Nick had panicked. Adam had to know that. He would never do what that other guy had done.

But . . . had he already? Just on a smaller scale?

Michael hit the turn signal, and Nick looked up. They were turning off Generals Highway and pulling into the nearly empty parking lot of Famous Dave’s.

“Did you miss a turn?” he said.

“No.” Michael parked the truck. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Nick, it’s like thirty degrees in here, and I’m blasting the heater.”

His breath was fogging. “Oh. Sorry. I’ll stop. Just—drive. It’s fine.”

But Michael unbuckled his seat belt and climbed down from the cab.

Nick stared at him.

“Come on,” said Michael. “You want to get some ribs?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Wrong. If I don’t eat something, I’m going to kill someone.”

“What about the job?”

Michael looked at the sky. “Looks like I won’t be able to get there before the storm.” His eyes snapped back to Nick. “It’s called a breather, little brother. Take it.”

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 22

Once they were sitting there with menus, Nick didn’t even bother reading his. When the waitress came around, he ordered a soda and handed her the folded cardboard.

Michael ordered enough food to feed an army.

“You’re so fidgety,” Michael said.

“I don’t know what we’re doing here. We can’t afford to blow off a job.”